Abstract
Touting the technological fix for environmental crises overlooks the role of society, history, culture, production, and geography. Anthropocene, presuming all civilizations as ecologically destructive, ignores the historical, social, and cultural differences in human-nature relations. The contributors of this issue mount a humanistic critique of structural inequalities, alienating social relations, and environmental injustice in environmental crises while articulating cultural and religious legacies in human-nature relations.
Not long ago, environmentalism was regarded as a distinct area of research separate from humanistic studies. Issues to do with ecological degradation, pollution, and climate change were commonly seen as technological and scientific challenges, best addressed by experts in such fields as biology, ecology, energy, and agronomics. Environmental crises were thought to be solvable by technocrats and scientists specializing in green economics, resource management, and sustainable technologies. Speaking about the environmentally knowledgeable assessment by the Australian government of damages to the soil and landscape, historian Tom Griffiths noted that “scientists often argue for the need to overcome deficits of knowledge, but rarely ask why we do not act upon what we already know.” The obstacles against environmentalist agendas are not technical but “cultural: we do not know ourselves as well as the country.”1 Touting technology as the optimal solution overlooks the crucial role of human society, history, values, productive modes, geography, and social relationships as sources of ecological crises—these are the humanistic areas of inquiry.
When environmentalist writers separate natural ecology from the realm of human influence, they forget Murray Bookchin's notion of “social ecology,” which links environmental crises to the exploitative hierarchy and expropriative behaviors of human societies and institutions.2 On the other hand, environmental study seems to have recognized humanity's capacity to behave omnipotently. Just witness how Anthropocene has gained prominence in recent decades as a rallying buzzword. Coined by atmospheric chemist Paul Crutzen in 2000, the term acknowledges humanity's oversized and disruptive role in misshaping environmental changes. Talks of the Anthropocene recognize that humans have not only impacted Earth and its ecosystems but also have fundamentally altered geological, biochemical, and physical systems, even extending this influence to the sky and the atmosphere.
Ursula Heise suggests that Anthropocene discourse, by emphasizing “the centrality of human agency to global environmental change opens the way for connections between the environmental sciences and research on the histories, cultures, values, and intuitions that have shaped human ecological agency in various forms around the globe.”3 However, although it would be productive to turn inward and focus on humanity's own destructive behavior and to examine socioeconomic structures as key factors, the Anthropocene concept is limited and ahistorical: it tends to portray all of humanity as an abstract and uniform Anthropos, neglecting the historical, social, and cultural origins of environmental crises and the significance of human labor, collective interaction, class differences, and diverse cultural and regional modes of engagement with nature. The sweeping universalism of the Anthropocenic view risks hindering critical examination of the historical, political, socioeconomic, and cultural roots of environmental disasters, leading environmentalists “to turn their eyes to the skies and avert their gazes from those suffering on the ground,” as Andrew Reszitnyk aptly puts.4 But Green Party thinker Rudolf Bahro reminds us that technologically induced ecological crises are a matter not of technoscience but of the human: “The ecological crisis is not in the trees; it is in us”—we project humanity's inner turmoil and contradictions onto the environment.5
To question and critique the Anthropocene, we need to transcend the traditional divide between nature and culture and turn attention to the structural inequalities and environmental injustice that exist among human populations, classes, and nations. While environmental issues affect all humans, different groups and cultures are significantly unequal in their vulnerability to environmental hazards and in their access to environmental benefits. Historically, various societies and cultures have developed distinct ways of thinking and negotiating their relationships with nature by drawing on the wisdom and practices of their cultural and communal traditions. In industrialized and Western societies, environmental consciousness emerged as a Romantic revolt within the context of industrialization and modernization. In contrast, environmental critiques from developing countries in the global South point to European imperialism and colonialism, as well the countries’ own hasty and damaging agendas of modernization and development. The humanist critique situates itself at the intersection of diverse perspectives and knowledge, bringing together literary criticism, science fiction, anthropology, and philosophy in a vibrant disciplinary mix.
This humanistic and cultural turn is what the contributions to this special issue aim to achieve. While the contributors are scholars in Chinese studies, their work reflects a transition from conventional environmentalism to broader concerns for local, social, national, and global environmental issues from humanistic perspectives. The humanist intervention calls for scholars and researchers to understand social ecology in conjunction with natural ecology. We strive to create a forum for discussion and exchange of ideas. This forum has been sponsored and facilitated by a collaboration in the spring of 2022 between the Advanced Institute of Global Chinese Studies at Lingnan University and the East Asian Languages and Cultures Department at Stanford University.
This humanist intervention seeks to uncover and revitalize the ecological traditions and legacies in Asian cultures and religions. These traditions offer valuable insights and critiques in the field of environmental studies. In the first section on traditional ecological wisdom, Chia-ju Chang's article presents a provocative study of Chan Buddhism as a means of critiquing mainstream ecocriticism and technoscientific hegemony. Chang argues that mainstream environmentalism often arises from a fear of the profound and the nameless, which are evocative of vitality inherent in both inner and outer nature and point to a realm beyond the boundaries of human language and technoscientific rationality. Chan Buddhism, on the other hand, has no fear of the unknown and offers a counterbalance, promoting a critical and salutary nihilism that inspires environmental thinkers to critically examine the dualism of mind and matter in the Anthropocene. Buddhist wisdom emphasizes compassion and equality with all living forms, fostering a more intimate and entangled relationship with nature and biospheres.
Stephen Roddy's article explores traditional Asian ecological insights and wisdom found in Japanese poetry. Referencing French sinologist François Jullien, Roddy contrasts the fluid and interconnected ecology of classical Chinese tradition with the rigid fixation on discrete identities and boundaries characteristic of Cartesian epistemology. Analyzing Sinitic-Japanese poetry known as bamboo branch lyrics, Roddy articulates how the poems mirror the natural environment in urban culture and everyday life in Kyoto, emphasizing the deep ecological connection between the two. The image of a river, for instance, symbolizes transience and the intermingling of natural and human conditions in a liquid and evanescent ecology.
The next section, addressing the interconnected themes of ethnicity, place, and border crossing, turns to modern Chinese literature for ecological insights and implications. Huaji Xu and Haomin Gong examine the novel Jicun shishi 機村史詩 (Epic of Ji Village) by Alai, a writer of Tibetan ethnicity. They uncover the contradictions in forest fire relief efforts in minority regions by the socialist state and Han rescue workers. These efforts reveal the complex interactions and tensions between religious beliefs and scientific concepts and between ethnic and class differences and the polarizing impact of the state's environmental agenda. While ancient beliefs cherished by minority cultures often align with ecologically sound sensibilities, they can harbor sexist and parochial prejudice. Conversely, replacing “superstitious” worldviews with modern secular ideas and practices can exacerbate class divisions and ethnic tensions, impacting both the natural and social aspects of environmental issues.
In the article by Haomin Gong and Qiongqiong Ye, the focus shifts to Mu Dan's 穆旦 (1918–1977) poetry and its implications for environmental inquiry. Mu Dan's long poem Senlin zhi Mei 森林之鬽 (The Phantom of the Jungle) was born of the poet's wartime experiences in the primordial forests of Burma. Gong and Ye's essay closely scrutinizes lines and images of the poem, revealing a profound ecological meditation on the connection between humanity and Earth. Mu Dan portrays nature as a battlefield, littered with bones, corpses, and graves in the aftermath of military conflict. However, nature is also depicted as a horizon of emerging life forms and landscapes, promising rebirth and regeneration. While war and conflict may appear to be recent human-made occurrences, Mu Dan suggests that they are deeply rooted in the primordial and violent aspects of the natural world. The horrors of nature are portrayed as phantoms from an unknown fate that transcend human-centric confidence. The descent from the anthropogenic heights to the natural realm of death and destruction serves as a stark and sobering reminder of the limitations of human construction amid primal nature.
Xinmin Liu critically examines how “green” technology is deployed to justify the extraction and exploitation of natural worlds for the sake of profit and economic growth. Liu's article exposes the phenomenon of “greenwashing,” where corporations and developers package and design attractive images to create the illusion of environmental consciousness and responsibility. In the words of Theodor Adorno, greenwashing “serves to disguise mediateness with immediacy” by concealing the artificiality with an immediate sense of authenticity, creating the illusion that the manufactured is organic and genuine.6 The tension between the “fake green” driven by profit motives and technoscience and the quest for an ecologically authentic experience thread through this insightful essay. Tracing the “green” gaze back to the vision-centered European tradition, Liu underscores how camera obscura plays a role in perpetuating the “green” illusion by providing a subjective vision capable of capturing complex and multilayered ecological experiences. This “green gaze” is premised on an anthropocentric subject that arrogates to itself cognitive supervision and the omniscient domination of nature and world. A love of nature falls under the rubric of ecophilia, which, as Jennifer Fay notes, is about “a love of dwelling in the world,” whereas scopophilia or cinephilia yearns to “dwell in the image.” The two forms of love become married in ecocinema, so that “they express a singular love of dwelling in the world through the image.”7 But this marriage is made at the expense of embodied, organic, authentic ways of dwelling in nature as well as in culture. For example, the urbanization drive in China to copycat Euro-American buildings and landmarks stands revealed as an antiecological and technocratic design to flaunt and display trappings of status, success, and wealth. Turning to ecological geographer Yi-Fu Tuan 段義孚 (1930–2022), Liu articulates the vital need to exercise human sensory and bodily capacities—the desire for and practice of authentically dwelling in nature and the earth. Instead of a “green” vision, the genuine ecological consciousness expresses a porous and fluid subjectivity that allows humans to embrace and empathize with all human and nonhuman lives, body and soul, crystallizing into an enriched notion of “place”—a home of ecosocial authenticity, embeddedness, and belonging.
Zhen Zhang's article turns to geopolitics and political ecology to explore how the Sino-Soviet film Feng cong dongfang lai 風從東方來 (Wind from the East) represents natural disasters in the context of the Sino-Soviet split, as well as cooperation during the Cold War era. The film links the political climate and natural disasters, shedding light on the tension and lingering solidarity amid Sino-Soviet tensions. Zhang's analysis reveals the complex dynamics of a relationship caught between a blend of nostalgic socialist internationalism and growing nationalistic self-assertion. The ecological crisis serves as a lens through which to understand the political ecology thrown into jeopardy through both natural forces and ideological confrontation.
Blending theoretical insights with close reading of film and literary works, Robin Visser contrasts two conflicting perspectives: indigenous ecology, grounded in a cosmology akin to the quantum field of energy interflow and interdependence among all life forms, and environmental colonialism, the technological rationality of colonialism that treats native land and people as a means for resource extraction and colonial domination. The agendas of “green governmentality” serve as an instrument of forced destruction of local ecologies and communities. Visser's analysis of Taiwanese writer Wu Ming-yi's 吳明益 (1971–) novel Fuyan ren 複眼人 (The Man with the Compound Eyes) delves into how these dynamics play out when local life-worlds are subjugated to environmental violence through settler-colonialism. In response, indigenous and Daoist ecologies emerge as antidotes and resistance. The novel emphasizes the significance of the uncontainable agencies of floods, mountains, and animals, which are often aligned with environmentally vulnerable and marginal human groups. The protagonist, equipped with compound eyes, possesses multiple faculties of perception and sensitivity and is able to foster empathy with multiple species and ecospheres. The ecological subjectivity and sentience represent a holistic, resonant, and sentient ecosystem characterized by integrity and substantive rationality. It underscores that “green” technologies cannot intervene without causing destruction and violence.
The final group of articles delve into ecocriticism in science fiction, an area that has gained recognition and significance in recent decades due to growing environmental concerns and the uncertain future of Earth and humanity. Revisiting the 1906 sci-fi novella Bingshan Xuehai 冰山雪海 (Iceberg and Snow Ocean) by Li Boyuan 李伯元 (1867–1906), Cheng Li explores the intersection of science fiction and the environment. In the story, a global ice age descends on and endangers China, compelling the Chinese to search for a milder climate and to create a utopia for themselves as well as colonized races. Offering both a nationalist solution and a critique of Western imperialism and colonialism in the context of climate disaster, the narrative showcases the Chinese embrace of scientific meteorological knowledge, integrating it with the traditional concept of qi, an ecological interflow and circulation of matter and energy. While critiquing colonialism, the novel reflects the eagerness to learn from Western modernity, and the acquisition of new knowledge empowers China so drastically that the country is able to manipulate climate and alter the world order. Another Qing novel, Xin shitou ji 新石頭記 (The New Story of Stone) by Wu Jianren 吳趼人 (1866–1910), envisions the rise of China in controlling the natural and human worlds. However, the anxiety and fear of China's rise and global influence may obscure the importance of effective leadership in combatting climate change. In an allegorical light, we realize that interstate coordination among different states, a cosmopolitical spirit, and climate leadership by a few major countries are necessary in any concerted effort to combat planetary catastrophes.
Melissa A. Hosek examines Liu Cixin's 劉慈欣 (1963–) Santi 三體 (The Three-Body Problem) in terms of environmental and political dystopia. The novel weaves a connection between natural ecology and political ecology when the protagonist, Ye Wenjie, caresses a felled tree trunk and feels her father's pain from the Cultural Revolution. The novel expresses ecoanxiety regarding alien invasion and human annihilation, offering criticism of the political ecology gone awry along with environmental degradation. When a corrupt political ecology aligns with the collapse of planet Earth, it underscores the role of human history and institutions as culprits in environmental catastrophes. However, Hosek goes on to explore bright spots of hope, sympathy, and human bonds along the lines of humanistic concerns. Her analysis refrains from reading the novel as a dark posthuman or orientalist dystopia. Instead, she articulates fresh humanist insights that highlight the interconnectedness of humans and nonhumans.
Kiu-wai Chu's article discusses how speculative fiction depicts human anxiety toward loss of home, degradation of natural habitats, and lack of belonging in the wake of deep environmental changes. By examining Chen Qiufan's 陳楸帆 (1981–) short stories, Chu analyzes how collective fears and anxiety of environmental crises play out. Chen's story “Weilai bingshi” 未來病史 (A History of Future Illnesses) speculates about future pathologies of mutated animals and biochemical abnormalities on the heels of technologically denatured sensory and sensual faculties and natural environs. Departing from these grim speculations, Chen's later stories offer positive conjectures and yearnings, shifting from dystopic visions to compassionate empathy and reciprocity among multispecies and their entanglements, an ecological network imbued with reenchanted aura. By seeking ways to enhance spirituality and technology mutually and intersubjectively, Chen's utopian works invoke the spirit of native-soil literature and expounds “home” rooted in the native soil, the vitality of biospheres, and a living Earth. While hi-tech works to denature and compromise inner and outer nature, deep within the Earth myriad microbes and forms of life swarm and persist, simultaneously protecting, nurturing, and challenging humanity. Living and working in ecological symbiosis with these elements is deemed the only way to maintain ecological balance.
Referencing Rob Nixon's notion of slow, invisible violence, Yuanyuan Hua and Yunfan Zhang argue that environmental injustice and crises are in fact strikingly visible, and it is the refusal to confront these injustices, oppression, and class disparities that allows the exploitative mode of capitalist production to persist as business as usual. They contend that it is structural and political forces that must be scrutinized and critiqued. Chen Qiufan's novel Huangchao 荒潮 (Waste Tide) confronts the global environmental crisis and explores the alienation of nature and waste workers through depictions of environmental degradation, waste dumps, globalization, “green” technology, and the dire conditions of e-waste workers. The novel vividly portrays the toxic damage wrought by ecological violence from the perspectives of marginalized and victimized groups.
Ban Wang's article breaks free from the binary of utopia and dystopia and reads Hao Jingfang's 郝景芳 (1984–) novel Liulang cangqiong 流浪蒼穹 (Vagabonds) as a “critical ecotopia,” a lens that explores various configurations of social worlds based on human engagement with nature. Eschewing the quest for utopian perfection, the article highlights the complexities and challenges of building a new society while navigating entangled complicity, contradiction, and interpenetration among social systems in the guise of planetary civilizations. In the novel the Mars Republic represents an ecotopia designed and built through advanced technologies, where Martians strive to adapt to nature and live within the limits of an arid environment. This ecotopia serves as a stark contrast to the decaying Earth, which is on the brink of environmental catastrophe. The novel portrays encounters, shocks, ambiguities, and mutual critiques between the two civilizations. The story intertwines the coming-of-age narrative of young Martians, who mature through productive and intellectual labor, premised on the coevolution of humans and nature. Their self-realization rests on the assumption that humans must engage with and appropriate from external nature while changing their inner nature by adapting to the laws of nature.
Collectively, these twelve articles contribute to a refreshing discussion and offer a humanistic, ecocritical perspective on environmental issues, technology, culture, and society. By venturing into less explored territories, the contributors aim to stimulate further discussions in the field of environmental humanities.
Notes
Quoted in Emmett and Nye, Environmental Humanities, 5.
Quoted in Gardels, “Reality Mugs the Metaverse.”